We tweet for JaVale McGee so he doesn’t have to. And, well, because he won’t. You see, JaVale—Pierre to his friends—doesn’t tweet, he just retweets himself. Not things he’s tweeted, he just presents them in RT form. Confused? So are we. But we’d expect things like the previous, and maybe this:

Because that’s the way JaVale—um, Pierre—rolls, right down to the caps lock and “U.” He also has Plastic Man’s reach and Superman’s hops, which sort of makes him Marvin Barnes with an iPad (and presumably more faith in airline travel). And he’s ready to go right from preseason, which is more than we can say for lots of players. He also stopped tweeting on October 6 (unless he’s resumed by now), which is why we’re OK doing it for him.

In every issue of SLAM, we devote two pages toward the back of the book to high school ballers in a section called PUNKS. Here’s this month’s PUNKS section online in one gallery; use the arrows to roll through the slideshow below and peep all four of the up-and-comers featured in SLAM 173.—Ed.

It’s after 9 p.m. A day-long photo shoot in the gym at Alameda (CA) St. Joseph Notre Dame is winding down, but Stephen Curry is still being Stephen Curry. Working the room. Dishing small talk. Schmoozing with workers. In between, when he gets a break from the cameras and the discussions, he steals moments with his wife and toddler daughter. Curry’s now been smiling and shaking hands with crew members and privileged spectators for the better part of four hours.

It’s hard not to be enamored with Curry. His boyish looks, his disarming smile, his down-to-earth demeanor. He has that rare ability to make you walk away after a brief encounter feeling like you just went fishing with a celebrity. “He’s an even better person than he is a player,” teammate David Lee says often.

But that’s not why Curry is on the cover of this magazine. That’s not why he’s one of the most exciting players to watch in the NBA. You know who he is because of the other side of him, his alter ego. Stephen Curry is a striking dichotomy in that sense. Off the court, his humility makes you feel warm and fuzzy about pro athletes. On the court, he completely betrays that disposition. He is merciless, a showman who preys on defenders in the pursuit of amazing.

People have been trying to coin his alter for years. Spicy Curry. Effin Stephen. The Human Torch. He says his favorite is The Baby-Faced Assassin.

“I like that one,” he says. “It was my first legit nickname from college. That was back when I really did look like a baby, so it has sentimental value.”

It’s that side of him that captivated the basketball nation this past spring, that has Warriors fans feeling like it’s finally their time. Sure, Curry’s outside shot is prettier than Meagan Good, thanks in part to the genes inherited from his sharp-shooting father, Dell Curry. And though his athleticism is wanting, he makes up for it with conniving handles to get where he wants on the court. If that’s not enough, he’s got a point guard’s IQ and underrated court vision.

But what breathes life into those skills, elevating him from a solid player to a star, is that other dude. Inside the boy-next-door is a roaring lion in search of prey. Inside is an ambition to destroy, fueled by years of being doubted and overlooked. This universally beloved nice guy with scriptures on his shoes and a playfully dangling mouthpiece gets off on conquering his opponents.

“I loved that about him even when he was a young kid and I watched him in the gym,” says Warriors coach Mark Jackson, who did battle with the adolescent Curry after Toronto Raptors practice when he played with Dell. “He wanted to be great even at that age. You won’t find a better person, but he has an edge to him. He wants to harm you, hurt you and defeat you.”

Curry is expecting to call on The Baby-Faced Assassin even more this season. He spent most of last year terrorizing defenses to the tune of 22.9 points and 6.9 assists per game.

To be sure, Curry’s been producing legendary moments for years. Remember, this is the same dude who put Davidson on the map in 2008, totaling 103 points in three straight NCAA Tourney upsets of Gonzaga, Georgetown and Wisconsin. The same dude who, as a No. 7 Draft selection in ’09-10, had five 30-point, 10-assist games and once blasted Portland for 42/9/8—rookie feats that had been accomplished only by Oscar Robertson.

Still, Curry remained a relative stranger to the larger NBA audience. Insiders knew the slight, 6-3 guard had a bright future. But he was trapped in the shadows of fellow rookies Tyreke Evans and Brandon Jennings, and obscured by the storm cloud that hovered over the Warriors’ franchise for decades. On top of that, his ankles’ propensity to sprain left his flame flickering for the following two seasons. No one was sure if Curry’s career would fizzle out or rekindle.

It caught fire.

Last season, in addition to dissipating that pesky Golden State cloud and setting a new record for three-pointers in a season, Curry outed his inner beast when the world was watching. He went NBA Jam on the Knicks at Madison Square Garden in February, scoring 54 points—50 coming in the last three quarters as he knocked down 11 of his last 12 treys. He gave the Lakers 47 in April, more than LeBron James, Kevin Durant or any other active player has scored in a visit to Staples Center.

Then, with all eyes on him, Curry used the NBA Playoffs as a pulpit to announce his ascension to greatness. In the first round, he went off for an extra loud 22 points in the third quarter of Game 4 against visiting Denver. He did it again in Game 1 of the next round, at San Antonio, en route to a how-did-he-do-that 44 points and 11 assists.

“There is no better feeling than being in that zone,” Curry says. The NBA’s best long-distance shooter, from a standstill but especially on the fly, is well-spoken when it comes to his fantastic feats. “Sometimes, all it takes is seeing the ball go in a few times. Sometimes, I feel like it’s time for me to make something happen, like my team needs me. But sometimes, cats get to talking and I’m like, OK, I got something for you.

“It’s not about arrogance. The NBA is full of great players and I love the rush of competing against the best. I love going up against all these guys who I admire and respect, and the challenge of trying to get the best of them as they try to get the best of me. We go at each other out of a sense of respect for the game and for each other. There is no question I am looking to make my mark in this great League.”

Seth Curry, Steph’s younger brother who was in training camp with the Warriors, is chatting at the shoot with onlookers about some of his big brother’s performances. The conversation veered to what it’s like to be on the receiving end, experience Seth has in spades.

Not everyone takes kindly to The Baby-Faced Assassin. It’s annoying enough trying to defend the guy. His range effortlessly extends beyond 27 feet, his release rivals a Nikon’s shutter speed and he can drill ’em spotting up or off the dribble or on the break. “He shoots something like 50 percent on transition threes,” Warriors general manager Bob Myers said. “Think about that. That’s insane.”

To add salt to it, the other side of Curry likes to rub it in. In a home game against visiting Brooklyn last November, he knocked down a three-pointer and got the foul. He followed by turning to the Oracle crowd and counting to four on his fingers—before stepping to the line for the free throw. In January, in a tight game against the visiting Clippers, he hit a late three-pointer (as part of a 16-point fourth quarter) and galloped down court after the Clips called a timeout. Two nights later, he got by Russell Westbrook and dropped in a floater off the glass with the foul. He shimmied from his knees.

In his 54-point MSG game, Curry famously did a zombie apocalypse version of the shimmy after knocking down his 10th three-ball. (Seth does a funny impersonation of that one.) In the first round against Denver, video replay shows him taking a corner three in front of the Nuggets bench and turning to give them a stare while the ball was mid-air.

Curry says it’s all in good fun. He says he’s an emotional player and his celebrations and banter are not meant as disrespect. It’s just exuberance exploding to the surface from his inner love of the game. It’s hard not to believe him based on who he is off the court. But no doubt it still stings when you’re his victim…which makes his brother Seth wonder.

“Think what it would be like if he played in the ’90s,” the rookie out of Duke says while dribbling a ball on the sidelines. “I mean, teams try to rough him up now, so you can imagine what the Knicks or the Bad Boy Pistons would have done to stop him.”

Curry’s coach is an OG from that era who could also show off with the best of them. Jax confesses his gameplan to stop Curry would be to rough him up, be physical with him. He says today’s stars definitely benefit from the hands-off edicts in this era of flagrant fouls. “I’m not going to have him jam me down from the three-point line with my wife and kids watching time and time again,” Jackson says, breaking into a smile as the New York City point guard in him creeps to the surface.

Both Curry and Jackson are expecting even more touchy-feely-grabby defense this year. Golden State heads into this season with its highest expectations in decades. The Bay is whispering about 50+ wins and the Western Conference Finals, and that rides largely on Curry having a monster year. Opponents know this. The book on Curry is to body him when he’s on offense and try to take advantage of his suspect defense.

He says he is preparing for this new reality by improving his ability to draw fouls and get to the free-throw line, where he’s a career 90 percent shooter. The Warriors signed Andre Iguodala to join Lee, Harrison Barnes, Klay Thompson and Andrew Bogut and in helping take the pressure off Curry. Nonetheless, the heat will be on. Because the word is out: No. 30 will shame you.

“He makes you change your defense because there isn’t one way to guard him,” says Clippers guard Jamal Crawford, who knows something about torching defenses. “He has unlimited range, crafty handle and he has the ability to hit tough shots. And his teammates want to see him get off. That’s a wicked combination.”

Of course, the extra attention on Curry just might bring out The Baby-Faced Assassin even more. He’s lean, at 185 pounds, but his teammates and coaches know him as nothing short of tough and feisty. It was that spirit that helped him through career-threatening ankle issues. It was that mindset that gave him strength to carry his team with 23.4 points and 8.1 assists in the Playoffs despite averaging 41.4 minutes on a bruised hamstring and sprained ankle.

Curry says he is comfortable when the odds are stacked against him, having hurdled numerous obstacles to get to this point. These days, he speaks about his slights over the years as a source of pride. But the sting of being dissed is what berthed his alter.

Despite dominating prep play at Charlotte Christian, his fragile frame left him scarcely recruited. He didn’t get a sniff from the Carolina basketball powerhouses. Not even Virginia Tech—where both his parents starred—recruited him to become a Hokie.

Curry wound up at Davidson, partly because of their high education standards, a priority for his mom. But he hadn’t yet given up on his NBA dreams. And even when they were realized, after he led the nation in scoring, he was greeted with doubt before he played an NBA game. If it wasn’t teammate Monta Ellis saying he couldn’t win with Curry, it was a host of doubters chiding him for poor defense and turnover problems. Many called him overrated, a glorified spot-up shooter worthy of a sixth man role, even after a dominant rookie season.

And then came the ankle issues. That troublesome right wheel was the biggest reason he signed a bargain four-year, $44 million contract extension last Halloween—which is now seen as one of the best deals in the League. In three years, he sustained dozens of sprains on the same ankle and had off-season surgery twice. It cost him 52 of 230 games, 40 in the lockout-shortened season. It cost him even more hours of sleep.

“That second ankle surgery was the lowest of the low,” Curry says. “Going into it, we didn’t really know how damaged my ankle was. And then everywhere I turned, I had people telling me I was going to be the next Grant Hill story. All the time. They even still say it. It’s the easy answer, to say I’ll never be the player everybody thought I was because of these injuries.”

Curry played most of last season without ankle issues. And by early February, Golden State was 13 games over .500 and well on its way to a Playoff bid for the first time since 2007. Curry was the catalyst for this Golden State resurrection, but it led to an All-Star snub. The latest in a litany of slights. Food for The Baby-Faced Assassin.

In the 30 games after the break, Curry averaged 26 points on 47.6 percent shooting with 7.4 assists and 4.0 rebounds. He rained 123 three-pointers in that span. That’s an average of 4.1 per game, and he did it at a 46 percent clip. But it wasn’t just that he made shots. It was how he made them. In bunches. With hands in his face. After yo-yoing a defender with a crossover.

“It makes it so much sweeter,” he says, “when you work so hard and succeed with the people that believed in you and helped you along the way.”

As he has reached the game’s upper echelon, exposure has started to follow. You’ll see Curry in several national ad campaigns in the coming months, and you’ll see his new sneaker brand, Under Armour, do tons with him. Stephen, who signed with UA as we were going to press, is the best player the brand’s ever worked with, and the folks there cannot wait to work with him and make his profile even larger.

As the clock approaches 10 p.m., Curry rebounds for his wife, Ayesha, as she chucks three-pointers from the top of the key in the house that Jason Kidd built. Chris Pondok, the athletic director and girls’ basketball coach at Saint Joseph, challenges Curry to make a trick shot off a beam in the rafters. Despite his obvious exhaustion, Curry accepts the challenge. His first few attempts are playful efforts and don’t come close. But then something changes. It’s almost instantaneous, but suddenly you get the sense he wants to make it. His grin fades, focus sharpens.

With his back to the basket, he heaves the rock toward the rafters. The ball caroms off a beam, falling back toward him. It bounces in the paint—right where the dotted line would be—over Curry’s head, then banks off the glass and rattles in. He raises both arms in celebration as onlookers cheer. That’s how The Baby-Face Assassin rolls.

As you should already know, SLAM 173 is on sale now. That means depending on where you live, those of you who are subscribers should be receiving your copy this or next week (perhaps today!), while those of you who pick up each issue at newsstands can do so immediately. Our NBA preview issue hitting the hands of readers during opening week of the NBA season? Pretty perfect timing, if we may say so ourselves.

With each issue we release, we tend to get tons of messages on Instagram and Twitter from readers sending us photos of their new ish. Those messages are awesome, and we love getting them, and, frankly: We want more.

So send us them! Post pics of your copy of the Stephen Curry-covered SLAM 173 on either of the social media services listed above, and give us some context of where you’ll be reading it—we want to see photos of you with your issue, or of the mag alone with your reading environment in the background.

Use the hashtag #mySLAM with your pics so we’re able to easily find them. We’ll choose one of our favorite #mySLAM photos and make it the Instagram or Tweet of the Month in SLAM 174, which drops in late November.

It’s one thing to rack up a lot of boards, it’s another to try and grab them all. For Jillian Alleyne, that’s the goal. “Every ball I can get is mine,” Alleyne says. “If there’s one thing I can do, it’s rebounding.”

In just her second collegiate game, Alleyne, now a sophomore at the University of Oregon, pulled down a Pac-12 record 27 rebounds—all while dropping 38 points—a small harbinger of things to come. For the season, the Pac-12 Freshman of the Year averaged a team high 13 ppg, 11.9 rpg and 1.3 bpg. That middle number was good enough for seventh in the nation in rpg, and her total of 370 boards for a single season sits second all-time in Ducks history.

If you’re picturing the female version of Shaq, though, think again. Alleyne’s only 6-3 and 184 pounds, numbers that make her stats all the more impressive.

“It’s not like I’m 6-9 and every ball just comes to me,” says Alleyne, who calls Fontana, CA, home. “I’m skinny and small, so I have to really work to get them. People don’t expect it, but I love surprising them. I had to let people know that just because I’m a freshman doesn’t mean I’m going to let you push me around. I had to stand my ground.”

Alleyne was just about the only thing that went right for an injury-ravaged Oregon team that finished 4-27 on the year, one of the worst seasons in the history of the program. At one point the Ducks had just six active players, struggling to find enough players for simple practice drills.

Alleyne used the opportunity to develop her skills. Playing substantial minutes for a freshman, she had time to find her comfort zone on the court, to see what worked and what didn’t work. Every night was a chance to see how she stacked up against the premier bigs in the Pac-12.

At the same time, the DI learning curve came quickly and Alleyne was expected to play like an upperclassman. Yet she would have stretches where she grabbed 13 or 15 rebounds, and then a few games later she’d grab 5 or 6.

Oregon head coach Paul Westhead looks for her to rebound more consistently this season.

“Jillian exhibited a tremendous knack to rebound the ball last year,” Westhead says. “Going forward, the only question is can she sustain that excellent knack for rebounding for 40 minutes, for 30 games?

“She needs to take that giant step forward and say, ‘Game 1, game 10, game 16, game 30. It’s not going to matter. I’m going to be an active, productive rebounder.’ I think she’s very capable of that. She has all of the fundamentals that it takes to be a very good college rebounder.”

She hopes to improve on her mid-range game as well and eventually become a 20/10 contributor.

“I want to be one of the top players in my class,” she says. “My goal is to keep getting better each year.”

You generally don’t want to assume too much about a player from one night of basketball. Rules have exceptions, of course, and if there’s one player in the 2014 high school class who might deserve an exception on this one, it’s Emmanuel Mudiay. That one night came back in August, and it spoke volumes.

Along with most of the rest of the nation’s best players, Mudiay was in Brooklyn at the end of the summer for the annual Elite 24 game. At halftime, he joined the ESPNU crew handling the live broadcast to announce his unlikely college choice: SMU. Then he went out and dominated the rest of the game, finishing with 22 points and earning game co-MVP honors. If any ballplayer had a better night last summer—let alone on national TV—it’s hard to imagine.

Most nights on the basketball court are good ones for Mudiay, a consensus top-five player in the Class of 2014 and, if you count him as a combo guard, probably the best at his position in the nation. Unlike his standout performance in Brooklyn—no surprise there—his college pick remains somewhat shocking, if only because of SMU’s relatively lightweight rep on the hoop scene. Thanks in large part to Mudiay’s much-anticipated announcement, that rep is changing before our eyes.

“It’s definitely a big load off my shoulders,” Mudiay says of wrapping up his recruitment. “I don’t have to try to impress coaches anymore. I can just get ready for Coach Brown.”

That would be Larry Brown, of course, the Hall of Famer who made a surprise choice of his own when he took over the SMU program last year. Signing Mudiay is pretty strong proof that Brown’s hiring was a good one for the Mustangs, who probably wouldn’t have had a prayer with the local star under any other circumstance. “A lot of people pick schools for the wrong reasons,” Mudiay says. “I picked my school because of the relationship I have with Coach Brown and his staff. He’s a Hall of Famer. I want to play in the NBA one day, and he’s already coached at the highest level.”

Local ties certainly helped seal the decision for Mudiay, who plays at Prime Prep Academy in Dallas, TX, and lives about 20 minutes from the SMU campus. Not coincidentally, his older brother, Jean-Michael, recently transferred to SMU from Western Texas JC, a savvy bit of additional recruiting by Brown that helped secure Emmanuel’s commitment. Says Mudiay, “I want my mom to be at every game, and with my brother there, and the fact that this is my home city, I’m going to have a lot of people cheering for me.”

They should have plenty to cheer for, too. At 6-5 and a shade under 200 pounds, Mudiay is a prototype lead guard, able to dictate tempo and alternate between creating for teammates and getting his own whenever he needs to. “I play at my own pace,” he says. “I don’t let anyone speed me up or slow me down.” A lot of that poise and confidence comes from playing with Jean-Mike and their oldest brother, Stephane, who balled at Texas Wesleyan. “People back home tell me I play just like my brothers,” he says.

Family has gotten Mudiay this far. It seems appropriate that staying close to home figures to take him as far as he wants to go.

That’s the fate Creighton’s Doug McDermott chose after he gave up his scholarship so that sixth-year senior and close friend Grant Gibbs could have a spot on the team.

McDermott was traveling with Team USA in the World University Games when he heard that the NCAA allowed Gibbs, who has suffered through knee injuries in college, another year of eligibility.

“I was in an airport super exhausted,” McDermott says, “but when I heard that news, I was ready to go.”

The three-time All-American could just be college basketball’s greatest walk-on ever. Last season, McDermott averaged 23.1 points per game for the Bluejays—the second best in Division I.

This season he’ll get to test his chops in the Big East, and although Creighton is making its debut in the storied league, McDermott is likely to become its pre-season player of the year.

“I was kind of under the radar the last two years,” McDermott says. “It will be a big adjustment.”

Helping him make that adjustment will be his father Greg, who is also the head coach at Creighton. As the son of a coach, Doug has been learning the game since his first breath.

“I’ve pretty much had a ball in my hands ever since I was born,” Doug says.

And while his dad can seem like he’s on top of him more than other players (Greg essentially made the choice to take Doug off scholarship), the leading scorer in Creighton basketball history recognizes how special these four years are.

“The best part probably isn’t right now,” Doug says. “It will be 10 years down the road to look back and say I did it.”

He was too humble to sell it here—even though it’s the reason why we asked him to do yet another Heaven-inspired piece for us—but our true main man, Basketball Evangelist Rick Telander, has put his legendary book out once again. This, the fourth (and Rick promises, last) edition, has been released in hard cover by Sports Publishing and is available via heavenisaplayground.com. If you don’t have it yet, hurry up and buy a copy!—Ed.

This is Jacob Riis Park, Queens, late-summer, 1974. That’s me on the left, talking to college players Bernard Hardin (New Mexico) and Henry Kinsey (Murray State), as we watch the playground game before us. When it got really hot in Brooklyn, a lot of ballplayers would head to the courts closer to the ocean, to be nearer the water and cooling breezes. That’s my East-West Shrine Game watch (long lost) on my left wrist, my camera bag (eventually stolen) at my side. I don’t have a ponytail, though it looks like it. Other frames from my 35 mm film show that there actually is a little kid sitting behind me with his bushy Afro sticking out behind my neck.

This is how it went that magical summer so long ago: hoops, heat, asphalt, dreams, danger, heartbreak, adventure, the rhythm of the city swelling around me like a million basketballs on pavement—all leading to a book I never thought would be published, but which thrills me yet. Heaven is a playground, you know. I found out.

In the current issue of the magazine, you’ll see a piece on Rockets PG Patrick Beverley in which he tells his own story. It’s fitting because his strong preseason proved he’ll be an important piece for Houston over the course of 2013-14, especially as people who just knew him previously as “dude who ended Russell Westbrook’s season” realize that he can actually play.

But even people who were familiar with his game from the middle of last season, when the Rockets signed him from a Euroleague team in Russia—and even for those who knew of him from his days at Arkansas—may not fully comprehend his journey. I can safely say I have a better understanding of it than most, and not just because I live in Chicago now.

Back when I was living in Philly and just finding my niche writing for the PUNKS section of the magazine, one of my assignments (ironically for the last issue of the special summer issue of PUNKS, if I recall correctly) was writing a recap of a tournament sponsored by AND1, featuring HS teams from around the nation. It was a little different than most summer events because it had actual school teams, not AAU programs, and it coincided with some camps, so I can’t say that the best of the best were in attendance.

But there was some talent: a top-ranked St. Benedict’s team with fringe NBA players Lance Thomas and Samardo Samuels, a Dallas team with future NFL WR Michael Crabtree (he could hoop, too) and the eventual winner, Artesia, which had a southpaw sophomore wing named James Harden, who actually caught my eye because of his defense and wasn’t the Cali team’s top offensive option or most highly-touted player.

Another squad in the tourney, which was held at Philly’s La Salle University (AND1 was based in the city’s suburbs), was Marshall HS out of Chicago, and being that Hoop Dreams is my favorite movie of all-time, I was excited to see them play. One of the youngest teams in the event (a few of the underclassmen developed into D1 players in time), they got blown out in both of their games, but I couldn’t take my eyes off their skinny rising-senior guard who played every possession like it was his last, guarding opponents full-court and finishing with 39 and 38 points in the two defeats, one of which was to Harden’s Artesia squad.

This was the year when Wayne Ellington and Gerald Henderson were the big names in Philly’s senior class and McDonald’s All-American Game locks, so my logic was that if those guys were top-10 prospects, even upon first glance, Beverley had to be a top-25 kid, at least top-50 in the nation. The other assembled media and scouts, all of whom had more experience than me, scoffed and basically said I needed to watch more basketball and get out of Philly to see more events.

After Patrick’s last game, I introduced myself to him to grab a quick quote for my story, but also to see where his recruiting stood. He told me his biggest offer was Toledo and that he’d likely commit there, which he eventually did, but this was when I was in the mode of trying to get local kids looks from colleges, so I pledged to keep in touch and get the word out about him.

He didn’t play on the AAU circuit—instead he played on the short-lived MTV show Nike Battlegrounds,which might have been a fun experience, but didn’t help his recruiting stock—but went on to have one of the more memorable seasons in recent memory in Chicago, averaging close to 40 PPG and leading Marshall “Downstate,” just like Arthur Agee’s team. I held up my end of the bargain, but he didn’t need my help, ended up at Arkansas and the rest is history, or is now, for those who didn’t know his story.

I won’t go on and on, as you can read his own words about his journey, but since moving here and working in my current position, we’ve crossed paths at the NBA Summer League in Vegas and at pro-am games in the city, and of all the kids I saw as young players that made it to the League, there’s not one I feel more blessed to have seen than Pat Beverley, as a lot of my friends can attest to over the years, as much as I’ve said he should be ranked higher, get high-major offers, be on an NBA roster, etc. And the fact that he moved his mom, Lisa, to Houston (where she owns a nail salon) a few years ago makes it even better.

Since there was a word count for the magazine story, here’s the extended version of our Q&A. Enjoy:

ON GROWING UP IN CHICAGO:

I’m from out West, Kildare and Hirsch, born and raised. Chicago people, we call that K-Town. As you probably know, not one of the best of neighborhoods. I played at was Kedvale Park. I didn’t play AAU at all. Summers, I played with [former Westinghouse High School and University of Illinois-Chicago stars] Ced Banks, Martell Bailey and all those guys.

ON MAKING A NAME:

I didn’t play my first two years of high school. I started playing my junior and senior year, and it’s ironic that we’re talking about this because when we were playing in Philly—I don’t know if you remember this—but James Harden was at that tournament, too. Me and him, we still talk about that. But that was kind of my breakout point. We used to do summer tournaments when I was in high school. My coming-out party was Philly. I didn’t really have a household name yet because I was in the dust of Sherron Collins, Jon Scheyer, DRose, all those type of guys.

ON MARSHALL HS:

Marshall was a powerhouse for women’s basketball, Cappie Pondexter and all of them. Our coach, Lamont Bryant, came to Marshall my sophomore year, but I didn’t play. So I came in my junior and I played. We started getting on the map and a lot of people started talking about us more.

ON HIS HS COACH:

Anybody that’s close to me, anybody that’s been knowing me since high school, everybody knew that Coach Bryant was like my father and I lived with him for some time, throughout high school and he was the backbone. He was like my father.

ON MTV BATTLEGROUNDS:

That was a street thing, Chicago vs. New York. We played outside, Nike sponsored it. LeBron, that was my first time meeting ‘Bron and that was crazy. I had a great experience with that. I was the youngest kid on the team, started in that game, played well, so it was fun.

ON BLOWING UP AS A SENIOR:

After my junior year, I started lifting weights. We lost to Sherron’s team four times the year before, so I came in wanting to prove myself and it happened so fast. Started out [scoring] 30, 35 and we beat DRose in a Christmas tournament, and that was right after they beat Oak Hill, so we beat them, a nationally ranked team. That kind of put us on the radar. We started winning games. We didn’t lose games for months and we were ranked 12th in the nation, and all that stuff, so I guess that’s when we people starting look at us like, ‘Who is this team?’

ON MARSHALL’S SUCCESS:

I had never been Downstate. I just always used to watch when I was younger. Westinghouse, who won states with Chris Head. I used to watch them on TV and say, ‘Man, that must be a nice feeling,’ so us going Downstate, winning that first game, beating a team that hadn’t lost a game the whole season and then playing DRose, coming up short to them. But it was just a great overall experience.

ON CHICAGO’S PUBLIC LEAGUE:

We’d be doing the national anthem and fights would break out. It was just all kinds of stuff. It’s kind of similar to a lower version of the NBA playoffs. It was that competitive. People want to win every night and a lot of people don’t know, within that small radius in Chicago, 10 or 11 miles, Derrick Rose. Another two or three miles, there’s Sherron. That many pros coming out of a city like that, it’s kind of crazy. Then, being able to play each other all the time. Osiris [Eldridge] and Jerome Randle, some guys like that—JaVale McGee—you’re playing against those guys every night and you grow up, and those guys are pros.

ON RECRUITMENT:

You know first I committed to Toledo after my junior year because that was the biggest school that was recruiting me. I felt comfortable with that team and I visited down there a couple times. For me, it’s always been about proving myself. That’s how it is now. I always want to play against the best competition and I always want to prove myself. I de-committed from them and I went into my senior year, and big schools started calling and was really interested. It was Arkansas and Michigan, [and] UCLA was in the mix.

ON GOING TO ARKANSAS:

Going into that summer, I didn’t leave, I didn’t go back and forth between Chicago and Arkansas. I got down there early, before anybody else, hit the weights, got stronger, stayed in the gym every night. This was before classes even started. I just wanted to, again, prove myself, so I was in practice with guys who were seniors, planning that I was going to get [SEC] freshman of the year. Don’t get it mixed up—it wasn’t being cocky. I’m just a big fan of speaking things into existence. I went to sleep on it, won that Freshman of the Year. I was grinding, but I was very fortunate.

That’s what is printed on the front of the popular Nike t-shirts that surfaced during the 2011 NBA lockout, and that’s what holds true for a lot of players. In the case of 35-year-old superstar Dirk Nowitzki though, as of this summer, BNS is no longer necessarily the case.

“It was definitely an unusual experience for me; basketball used to dictate my entire summer,” Nowitzki says, about taking a large chunk of time off in July. Wearing a loose shirt from his sponsor—although not bearing the phrase mentioned above—and sweatpants, Nowitzki is in his hometown of Wurzburg, Germany, catching up with old friends and preparing for a charity event he is set to host. He seems calm, relaxed even. “I got married last summer, so the priorities have been a little bit different for the last two summers. Once you get older, it changes.”

The “it” that he mentions, the part that changed, is his private life. Though he’s never been known for inviting the outside world into his inner sanctum, Nowitzki appears to have doubled down on that after he and his wife Jessica welcomed their first child into the world in July. But there is one thing Nowitzki cannot hide—the pride that comes with being a father. “I would not have wanted to miss that for the world,” he says, eyes shining, while speaking about the birth of his daughter, Malaika.

Fresh off of the first season this century where his Dallas Mavericks failed to make the Playoffs, Nowitzki’s offseason began several months earlier than usual. And while the 7-foot scoring maestro was (and still is) unhappy about that, the extended downtime turned out to be a blessing in disguise. After all, he was able to prepare for, focus on and witness the birth of his firstborn.

“I even spent four or five nights in the hospital—since this is our first child it was very important to me,” Nowitzki says. “When we went home from the hospital and you have the little one in the car with you, that’s when I really realized that this is actually happening. She’s part of our family now, and it’s awesome.”

It is awesome, and it is— in the best way possible—time consuming. As such, some of Nowitzki’s usual non-Mavericks activities have taken a backseat. On a public tip, the German national team had to fend without their star in the EuroBasket championship, which took place in Slovenia in September. And on a private note, Nowitzki was only able to spend a paltry two weeks at home in Wurzburg.

“We don’t have anyone from the family nearby,” says Nowitzki. “No grandma, no grandpa, no nothing.” Everyone is a 10-hour plane ride away—too much for little Malaika at that early age. That’s why Nowitzki cut his normal trip way short.

Aside from not getting to chill in his birthplace, a shortened stay in Germany also meant that Nowitzki and his basketball mentor, Holger Geschwindner, didn’t get as much face—and gym—time as usual. That’s OK, though. The two of them got plenty done, even if it didn’t include some of the more eccentric exercises that Geschwindner, a 68-year-old who’s been working with his star protégé for 20 years, is now famous for.

“No, no. We don’t do the handstand walk and some of the other stuff anymore,” Nowitzki says through a smile. “The program has changed over the years: a little more shooting, a little more running. When I was in my physical prime, maybe at 25, we did two and a half hours of that stuff, but not anymore.”

No, no. Not that stuff. Instead, after being plagued for much of last season with a lingering knee injury, and after missing the Playoffs, a disappointed Nowitzki began preparing for the upcoming NBA campaign almost as soon as his season ended.

“I obviously wasn’t very happy how things went last season; wasn’t very happy how my knee responded after the surgery. I simply didn’t want to believe that this was it,” says Nowitzki. “So I’ve basically been preparing for the season since May.”

In May and June, Nowitzki focused on his conditioning and leg strength. In July, he took time off, as he said before, to be with his family. And since August, he’s been working on basketball-related activities. As far as the 15-year vet is concerned, he’s more than good to go. “I’m feeling very well,” says Nowitzki. “The knees are holding up. I feel much better than I did last season.”

The work, however, isn’t done. Aside from contiuning his regular workouts back in Dallas, Nowitzki plans on bringing Geschwindner back out for a final fine-tuning before the ’13-14 season. “At the very least he’ll be in Dallas for the last week of October,” says Nowitzki. “I believe our first game is on October 31. We usually work out the last week before the season.”

Ah, the new season. When he talks about it, Nowitzki can’t help but get excited. It’s his chance to prove to himself and to everyone else that last season was an aberration. “I’m ready to go,” he says. “I’m really looking forward to training camp right now.” Asked whether that means that he is running around like in the “What day is it?” commercial the Mavs are using to push tickets, Nowitzki laughs and backpedals some. “No, it’s not quite that bad. But I’m looking forward to playing with the guys again.”

A wife. A kid. A life. It’s easy to get confused and think that Nowitzki doesn’t care as much as he once did about winning, losing and the Mavericks. That’s far from the truth, though. In fact, with the clock ticking on his career and only one Larry O’Brien trophy sitting on his mantle, Nowitzki cares more than ever. “The competitive drive is still there,” says the 2011 Finals MVP,” and I think if it was any different I would quit. I want to play at the highest level and I want to win. That’s why last season was so disappointing for me, especially missing the Playoffs.”

That’s also why Nowitzki was hoping the Mavericks would pick up a few helping—if not leading—hands this summer. And while the results weren’t quite disappointing in nature to the star, they were not what he was looking for.

Says Nowitzki: “We did have some hopes of landing Chris Paul but it became obvious very quickly that he would re-sign with the Clippers. We then prepared for our meeting with Dwight Howard, which I was a part of. Despite the injury last season, he’s still the best center in the League in my book. So we flew down to L.A. and presented our plans. I think Mark Cuban did an unbelievable job with the video, the slide show, the PowerPoint and everything else that we had lined up. I thought we made a very good pitch [laughs]. But then again, all four or five teams probably felt that way.”

At this point in his breakdown of the free-agency period, Nowitzki slows down ever so slightly, lowering his voice. He does not try to hide how he felt and still feels. “That was truly a frustrating moment once again,” he says, of Howard’s decision to sign with the Houston Rockets, “but I think we have nothing to regret and still made the best of the situation. We did not want to go the same route of eight or nine guys on one-year deals, which clearly failed last season. We might have even made the Playoffs with that team if I hadn’t missed 29 games.

“We clearly choose to go a different route this year,” Nowitzki continues. “We did have our problems last year with turnovers and guard play, especially at the end of games which is why we have invested in [Jose] Calderon. Then we got Monta Ellis, which came out of nowhere basically. I didn’t even know we were still in the running for him at that point. But all of a sudden Cuban texted me, ‘We’re getting Monta Ellis,’ and I was ecstatic. He’s a very quick and explosive player. I don’t think I have ever played with a player of that caliber at the 2-guard position.”

It’s evident that Nowitzki is genuinely excited about his new cast of teammates. He’s excited about, as he points out, Ellis’ ability to get to the basket; about Calderon’s 46 percent three-point shooting, a number he drops off the top of his head; about the addition of Samuel Dalembert.

“With Calderon, Ellis and also myself on the floor, we need Samuel Dalembert to have our backs defensively, be active and play very good pick-and-roll defense,” says Nowitzki. “We might have to play some zone here and there, which I think we have done well in the past. We just have to be smart and adjust our defensive schemes. You can’t just go out, score 120 points and expect to win any Playoff games that way. Those times are over.”

While it might be a reconstructed team that he hasn’t had the chance to play with yet, and while it might be a new season coming off the back of a Playoff-less one, Nowitzki’s view of the Mavericks and the Western Conference as a whole is precise and concise.

“I do think we have the pieces to get to the Playoffs and then we’ll take it from there,” he says. “With [Russell] Westbrook coming back, I think that OKC is still the favorite in the West. But after that I think there are some question marks. Many teams got better in the offseason and I think we did as well. The Clippers’ bench got deeper, and I think Blake [Griffin] will be better this year. Golden State can now play even faster with [Andre] Iguodala, can run smaller lineups even. Houston certainly wants to contend for playing at home in the first round. It is going to be another interesting season.”

With that, Nowitzki stops speaking. His schedule for the rest of his short stay in Germany is crowded to say the least. After just a few dinners at his mom’s table, a few training sessions with Geschwindner and one charity event later, he will already be on a plane back to Dallas, to be with his newly founded family and to continue his preparations for the ’13-14 NBA season. Because at the end of the day, basketball actually does not stop. It might take a break for a bit. But for Dirk Nowitzki, it never really stops.

Kawhi Leonard strolled up to the front door of his Chevy Tahoe, which was all packed up and ready to go. His uncle, Dennis Robertson, was walking with him. The two had always been close. But in the 20 months since the murder of Kawhi’s father, Mark, who was fatally shot while working one evening at his Compton car wash, Robertson had begun to serve a different role in the life of his sister’s son. And so as an 18-year-old Kawhi prepared himself for the 90-mile drive south from Marino Valley to San Diego State University, he and his uncle had one final chat before the soon-to-be college basketball player tucked his 6-7 frame into his car.

Months earlier, Leonard’s 20-rebound effort had helped his high school, Riverside (CA) King, capture the Southern Section Division I-AA championship. In that game he also had 11 points, 6 blocks and 3 steals. It was a performance that was emblematic of Leonard’s senior season, one in which he averaged 22.6 points, 13.1 rebounds and 3.4 assists per game.

Leonard seemed like the perfect high school prospect. And yet, for some reason, San Diego State had been the only school to come banging, and not just knocking, on his door. Sure, others had come around, especially as Leonard’s senior year progressed. But Justin Hutson, an assistant for Aztecs’ head coach Steve Fisher, had been on Leonard’s trail longer than everyone else. The Aztecs were the only school to make Leonard feel like he was the player they wanted, and not just a fallback in case some other top recruit decided to play for someone else. To Kawhi, that—loyalty, respect, candor—mattered more than any publicity or adulation that would come with attending a more prestigious school.

And so here he was, standing underneath the California sun, sharing one last thought with his uncle before heading off to college. Like most of the thoughts that come out of the mouth of the laconic Leonard, it was short and to the point. And full of confidence—in himself, and the journey he was about to take.

“Uncle,” he said, “I’m only doing two years there.”

A few minutes later, Leonard was in the car and driving away. As always, he knew exactly where he was going.

***

Kawhi Leonard was born to be a San Antonio Spur. It’s a bit frightening actually how, at the still-embryonic age of 22, Leonard seems to so perfectly represent all the traits that have come to symbolize the Spurs’ current 16-year run of success. If NBA teams had futuristic sci-fi movie-like factories where they could grow their ideal players—from their physical attributes, to their skill sets, down to their personalities—it’s not too hard to imagine the Spurs owning one containing dozens of Kawhi Leonard clones running around.

For one, Leonard doesn’t like to talk much. This is one of those things that is a fact even though it technically can’t be one, like the fact that Krispy Kreme’s doughnuts are much better than Dunkin’s. Leonard disagrees with the notion that he is reserved—he says that he just prefers to avoid conversations with people he doesn’t know, such as a reporter asking him if he would consider himself a quiet person. But numerous acquaintances of his have opinions to the contrary.

“He’s a real quiet guy,” says Chicago Bulls rookie Tony Snell, who played with Leonard in high school. “You probably know as much about him as I know.”

“He’s just not a person that talks a lot,” adds Leonard’s mother, Kim Robertson.

“He’s a real quiet kid—we give him a ton of flack for that,” says Spurs coach Gregg Popovich, before pointing out that silence is almost as much a part of the Spurs’ recent legacy as winning is. “But Timmy’s only spoken to me like once every two weeks for the past 16 years, so I’m used to that by now.”

The comparisons to the reticent Duncan can go further. Take, for example, the following story, which one could imagine being told about the Spurs’ Hall of Fame forward/center as well:

After Leonard was drafted in 2011 by the Pacers with the 15th pick—they then traded him to the Spurs for George Hill—he was concerned about how to ship his precious Chevy Malibu, which replaced the Tahoe while in San Diego, to San Antonio. “Because this one’s already paid for,” is the answer he would give to his family when asked how come he wouldn’t just buy a new car. So for his entire rookie season, Kawhi Leonard, an NBA first-round pick making nearly $2 million a year, drove around San Antonio in the same Chevy Malibu that he had used as a college student at San Diego State. Eventually, Leonard caved; he now owns a Porsche, too. But the only time that gets taken out of the garage is when he’s driving to the AT&T Center for a game.

And then there are his talents on the court, where Leonard, like the Spurs franchise as a whole, is as effective as he is understated. He’s accurate when shooting the corner three (43 percent, per NBA.com), a long-time Spurs staple, and a must in modern NBA offenses. On defense, he’s able to use his 7-4 wingspan and the Hulk-sized hands that he’s had since his birth—“The first time I saw him in the delivery room I was like, ‘Oh my gosh, look at those hands!’” says Leonard’s mother—to constantly wreck havoc from multiple spots. And he does all the things that get labeled as “little” even though they are anything but.

“Everything, his length, his foot speed, his intuition, indicated that he could be a great defender [in the NBA],” Popovich says. “And that happened right away. What’s surprised me is how quickly he’s picked things up on the offensive end, things like the runner and the three-point shot. He’s learned more quickly than almost anybody I’ve ever had and become a better offensive player much quicker than I expected.

“Going forward, it’s my responsibility to get him more and more involved. As our veterans get older, he’s going to be a guy that we go to more and more.”

Popovich says he would like to get the ball to Leonard in the post more frequently. He believes the strong, yet nimble forward will be able to force double teams from the block. More isolations and off-screen actions are in the cards, too. Some of these changes began during last year’s Playoffs. Leonard, upon being given more minutes (37 per game up from 31 during the regular season), responded by upping his scoring (11. 9 to 13.5) and rebounding (6 to 9) averages, and shooting more efficiently (55 percent compared to 49 percent). He also played a major role—both on and off the ball—in limiting LeBron James’ output in the Finals.

It was a vintage Spurs performance from a player who should be too young to be considered a vintage Spur. But part of what makes Leonard so distinctive is that he can be a vintage Spur, while saying the most un-Spur things, and still come off like a Duncan and Pop disciple. It’s a neat magic trick, one that almost no one else would be able to pull off.

“I want to be one of the best players in the NBA,” Leonard says. “All the things you have to do to be great—regular-season MVPs, Finals MVPs—those are the things I want to accomplish. Those are the goals that I have. I’m not looking up to nobody, I don’t want to be like nobody. I’m just trying to get better.”

One of those trophies was nearly his, had Leonard just been able to connect on one more shot.

***

The night after Game 6 of the NBA Finals, Leonard had trouble sleeping. Earlier in the evening, he had missed a last-minute free throw, one that could have sealed the game and brought the Larry O’Brien Trophy back to San Antonio. “He wasn’t wallowing in it,” says his mother, “but he was very upset.” After that, though, it was time to prepare for the series finale, time to move on to better things. Two nights later, in Game 7 of the NBA Finals, Leonard scored 19 points and pulled down 16 boards. The Spurs lost, but the kid from Riverside had done what he always has.

The past—its hardships and failures—has never been something that Leonard has focused on. Why look into the darkness of the rearview mirror when the road ahead looks so bright?

“I don’t really think about that [foul shot] anymore,” Leonard says. “It was just one game. There were other games we could have won. I just try to move on from it and learn from it.”

Recently, Kim Robertson’s mother paid her daughter and grandson a visit. A deeply spiritual and religious woman, Kawhi’s grandmother began talking to him about the Bible and reminding him how important it was to keep religion in his life. There, Leonard revealed to his mother and grandmother that he had a Bible Verse of the Day app on his phone. He told them his favorite verse came from his favorite book, the Book of Job. It’s the story of a man who has everything—his health, his wealth, his family—taken away from him by God, yet never loses his faith. Eventually, Job is given his health back and starts a new family. His wealth doubles, too.

This is the book that Kawhi Leonard takes solace in. This is who Kawhi Leonard is.

NBA coaching legend Phil Jackson used to give his players books to read. Each book was given to a player for a very specific reason, and that book was taken politely and tossed in the back of a locker. Judging from the grammar in NBA player tweets, many of them—like most of us—should read more. Now that Phil has moved on, we need someone to recommend books to NBA players. We don’t have PJ on our list of contributing writers, but we do have a high school English teacher.—Ed.

Dwight Howard, I suggest that you read Ender’s Game by Orson Scott Card. It’s a sci-fi tale of a supremely gifted but misunderstood boy thrown into a world where nothing less than victory is expected of him. Ender is an innocent kid and he just wants to have fun, eat candy and be loved by all. Like what you’re hearing so far, Dwight?

He goes off to battle school in space—remember, it’s sci-fi—where the curriculum is geared toward preparing to battle and overcome a vicious race of alien bugs. Defeat is not an option, and along the way there are lots of angry people screaming at poor little Ender. Since he has the greatest talent, he has to be the greatest warrior. They all have his best interests at heart, just like Stan Van Gundy and Mike D’Antoni did…or did they?

Ender has a cruel, vicious, sadistic, megalomaniacal older brother bent on global domination. These are traits you might have noticed in your former teammate Kobe Bryant. He’s not so kind to Ender. Another mentor of his is the great general Mazer Rackham, beloved by all, and his shadow looms over Ender. This would be like your time in post-Shaq Orlando and L.A. Basically, everyone is telling Ender he has to be a serious general, the last and greatest hope for humanity, but that’s not what he wants to be.

Things don’t go so well for Ender at Battle School, so he has to leave and return somewhere normal, like earth. You recently employed a similar strategy. Once you’ve spent time in L.A., with those Championship expectations and all of the delightful weirdness L.A. has to offer, it’s safer to go to Houston. Enjoy it. But be warned, Ender had to go even deeper into space to fight the ultimate battle. We know your calendar has time marked off for hijinx with The Beard, but Ender’s Game can be read pretty quickly, and it will tell you what to do this year.

As fans filed out of TD Banknorth Garden in Boston on January 22, 2007, there was a feeling of what could have been. Not what could have been on that night in particular—the hometown Celtics sunk to 16 games below .500 and were facing a powerhouse, so a W wasn’t expected—but what could have been for the franchise itself. A return to its once-glorious past. The team had just lost their eighth straight game, this one at the hands of the San Antonio Spurs, during what would become a torturous and humiliating 18-game skid.

That June, the Spurs would win their fourth Championship of the Tim Duncan Era. The Celtics, meanwhile, would be headed to their sixth Lottery, having made just four Playoff appearances during that same span.

Flashback 10 years prior: It’s January, ’97, and the Spurs are also in Boston for their yearly visit. Each team that night walked out with less than 10 wins to go with 23 losses—they were two of the NBA’s worst. The Celtics were fresh off of three losing seasons in the three years following Reggie Lewis’ death, regular cellar-dwellers with a subpar roster; San Antonio, though, was coming off of seven straight Playoff appearances and was struggling this season only because former MVP David Robinson was sidelined for the season with an injury.

On this night, the Celtics won the battle, 107-83, but they went on to lose the war. It was a war about losing—losing the most games to win the best Lottery odds, and get to select Tim Duncan first overall that June. The Green accomplished the first two, amassing just 15 wins that year but struck out on the one that mattered most. Instead, the Spurs won the Lottery, took Duncan, and in more than a decade and a half since, haven’t looked back. The season and its outcome remain both one of the most glaring examples of tanking and a reminder of how it can go historically right and devastatingly wrong.

The 15,928 in attendance on that early ’07 night in Beantown knew all of this, even if they didn’t recall the specifics. Those Celtics rounded out the season with the League’s second-worst record, setting themselves up for a great shot at either Greg Oden or Kevin Durant. But the Lottery again did them no favors, and they got the fifth pick, the worst possible outcome based on their finish, and the slot they had the lowest chance (12 percent) of securing.

Once again, they airballed.

Duncan is the kind of player, both as a talent and winner, who only comes around a couple times every generation. Certainly the injury-plagued Oden has proven not to be this. And while KD gives every indication that he is that kind of player and will get those rings, it’s yet to happen.

Many believe that the upcoming 2014 Draft includes at least one (Andrew Wiggins) and potentially multiple (Jabari Parker, Julius Randle, Dante Exum) of this kind of player. And most agree that it’s the deepest Draft in at least a decade. Does that mean that the Celtics—now a trio of Hall of Famers short of a Big Three—and other teams that, on paper, seem destined for the League’s cellar, will do their best to secure a spot at the bottom of the standings and the top of the Lottery’s odds? Would it be worth it, and what would make it so? Solely a Championship, or something else, like star power and ticket sales? Why did this phenomenon start, and how long will it be a part of the game?

Tanking is more of an institutional reality than a nightly one. It’s about the vision that management and ownership have for building a franchise, and how they allow that to inform the roster they field, rather than about players shooting ill-advised shots intentionally. Good luck finding an NBA player who steps out on the court—playing for himself, the name on the back of his jersey, his teammates, his city, his job security, his health—who doesn’t try his hardest to win each night.

“Any credible organization that wants to build a winning attitude, your players cannot hear, ‘OK, go lose this game,’” says Hakeem Olajuwon, who skipped his final year at the University of Houston in hopes that he’d be selected by the Rockets. “The coach and the manager might know that, but you’re not going to let your players know that.”

Even so, as he suggests, when the front office has dismantled a roster, there’s only so much to be done.

“I was bringing in guys like Nate Driggers and Brett Szabo,” ML Carr, the coach of the ’96-97 Celtics, said earlier this year. “It was a joke. But the idea was not to make a move that would help us too much.”

John Lucas, the Cavs coach for the first half of their successful ’02-03 tanking, the year that they won the Lottery and drafted LeBron James, faced similar obstacles. “They trade all our guys away and we go real young, and the goal was to get LeBron and also to sell the team,” he recalled in 2010. “I didn’t have a chance.”

But where does the line for rebuilding end and the one for tanking begin?

From 1981 through 1990, the Nuggets reached the Playoffs every year, though they made it past the second round just once, and never reached a Finals. They decided it was time for retooling after the 1990 season. They traded their leading scorer, All-Star Fat Lever, and let their second leading scorer, eight-time All-Star and future Hall of Famer Alex English, walk in free agency. They also fired coach Doug Moe, who had guided them to each of those Playoffs.

Despite having the worst record in the League the next year, they were stuck with the worst possible outcome based on the odds: fourth overall. In that sense, like it later would for the Celtics, the tanking failed. The Nugs drafted Dikembe Mutombo, and then landed in the Lottery the next two seasons, before making the Playoffs in ’93-94 and ’94-95. Those would be their only two Playoff appearances in a 13-year span from the time they parted with Lever and English to the time they drafted Carmelo Anthony third in ’03.

Two things become clear here. First, even in piling up losses to become the League’s worst, there’s a good chance a team won’t get the highest pick possible. Since the weighted Lottery system came into effect before the 1990 Draft, the worst team has gotten the first pick only three out of 24 times. It’s gone to the team with the fifth worst record five times.

Second, even if they did for a season or two at first, it’s hard to imagine the Nuggets tanked for a decade-plus. This just reinforces that franchises can be relegated to the Lottery year after year, like they were, and still show no signs of life if they’re making poor personnel decisions. In 1998, Denver drafted Raef Lafrentz (No. 3 overall) ahead of Paul Pierce, Dirk Nowitzki, Vince Carter and Antawn Jamison, and lost out on their Lottery pick via trades in 1996, 1999, 2000 and 2001.

The Celtics tell a similar, if potentially opposing, story. While missing on Duncan shouldn’t have been the disaster it turned out to be, since they still had the third and sixth picks that year, in 2007 they were able to flip that missed Oden/Durant pick for Ray Allen, acquire Kevin Garnett a month later, and a year after that complete the largest turnaround in NBA history en route to winning their first title since ’86. But that was no thanks to their losing ways or the outcome of the Lottery in either ’97 or ’07. Instead, shrewd personnel moves and apt post-Lottery drafting skill—they took, via trade with the Suns, Rajon Rondo at No. 21 in ’06—allowed them to piece together a winner.

The failure (1997) and success (2007) at turning around the franchise point to three of the most important factors when it comes to tanking: luck, other personnel moves and draft depth and peak.

Now, as the NBA season tips off, the Celtics look a lot like those 1990 Nuggets. They’ve parted with their two biggest stars and the coach that turned their franchise around. They’re in rebuilding mode just like they were six and 18 years ago. Is it rebuilding, or tanking? President of Basketball Operations Danny Ainge has sworn off the latter. Even if the Cs buck the tanking temptation this time around, bet that a handful of others won’t. And for those who don’t, come Lottery Day, Draft Night, or an opening jump five years from now, will they be any closer to winning a Larry O’Brien Trophy?

Beginning in 1966, the first selection in the NBA Draft was awarded to the winner of a coin flip between the teams with the worst record in each conferences. From there, other teams would select in reverse order of their finish in the standings.

This system was put to the test during the 1983-84 season. As that campaign wound down, the five teams with the worst records finished one of two ways: respectably, given that they were one of the NBA’s worst; or awfully, in turn making them one of the NBA’s worst. In that first category were the Pacers (7-8); Clippers (13-15); and Cavs (16-24). On the other end were the Rockets (3-14) and Bulls (6-27). It was no coincidence, many around the League charged, that the losers, Houston and Chicago, were the only ones who could benefit from finishing last in their conference and entering the coin flip; the other three franchises had already dealt their pick away.

Now, nearly 30 years after the 1984 Draft, it’s safe to say it was one of the greatest ever. The first with Commissioner David Stern at the helm of the League featured four would-be Hall of Famers: Olajuwon, Michael Jordan, Charles Barkley and John Stockton. Heading into the evening, Hakeem and Michael seemed to be the two biggest prizes.

The Rockets beat the Pacers in the flip and took The Dream. Of course, Portland, with Indy’s pick, took Sam Bowie, which allowed the Bulls to select Jordan. But the late-season antics were enough for the League to make a major change: They instituted a Lottery, where each non-Playoff team was given an equal shot at the No. 1 pick, before shifting to a weighted Lottery—all to deter intentional losing.

Olajuwon, like Duncan, is an uncommon player—also one of the greatest of all time. It took a decade and a Jordan retirement, but The Dream would eventually lead the Rockets to two rings. Meanwhile, the resounding success of the Spurs’ tank job was extremely rare. They had a future Hall of Famer, near his prime, already on the roster in Robinson; until that season, winning had been a way of life for the players and staff for nearly a decade; plus, they struck gold with the Lottery. That’s the rarest of combos.

Since the inception of the Lottery, only 17 percent of teams with the worst record have ended up with the first pick. And in the last 30 years, only three players selected first overall have led the teams that drafted them to a Championship: Robinson, Duncan and Olajuwon.

Is it worth making a mockery of a season with hopes that the top pick of the 2014 NBA Draft—or whatever Draft thereafter—will become a member of this elite group? Maybe, but to this point, history hasn’t been kind.

Derrick Martell Rose has had many a glittering label in his brief and blessed career: No. 1 high school player in the country? NCAA Finalist? No. 1 NBA Draft pick? Rookie of the Year? Youngest MVP (22!) in history? The first son of Chicago, as well as the first Mr. Basketball from the state of Illinois, to ever captain the Bulls? DRose has been all of that, and made it look as smooth as one of his spinning drives to the hole.

But in 2013, for the first time in his life, Derrick Rose will be something he has never been: doubted. The young man, who has had nothing but love, now has haters.

For many pro jocks, hate is like caffeine. It is what gets them out of bed and over to the gym. Think about Michael Jordan and how he needed to conjure, exaggerate and even invent slights to keep his intensity at that otherworldly level. Many need the doubt to keep going. But for some, the fuel of doubt can be highly combustible and set them ablaze.

Yes, you need talent to play in the NBA, but there are few attributes more overrated than talent. Most NBA players, if you ask them the question, will tell you they were not the most talented person in their neighborhood, let alone their city. Even in Chicago, it is hard to find someone who will say DRose is the best player the city has produced. Most will say Ronnie Fields. Many will say Benji Wilson. Some will say Isiah Thomas or Will Bynum. Only a few say Dwyane Wade.

Even in the NBA, there is talent all over every roster, but stardom is the province of the few. Many of us argued in 2008 that Kansas State’s Michael Beasley was a better prospect than Rose. But talent is fragile and useless without the armor to protect it and the perspective to nourish it.

Now it is Derrick Rose, the man who never doubted his own magical destiny and appeared on the cover of the previous issue of this magazine, who has to confront doubt and use the hate. He has to do what Magic did in 1980 when he was described as a “coach killer” or MJ when he basically lost his second season in the League to a foot injury, or LeBron every damn day of his career. He has to rise above it all with the confidence of someone alone in a gym.

Whether or not Derrick Rose can shut out the fear, trust his knee and torque his body toward the hoop will determine much of the ’13-14 season. The old Derrick Rose, with a healed Joakim Noah, alongside what we now know we have in Jimmy Butler, dethrones the Miami Heat. Absent this, the only drama at the top of the Eastern Conference will be whether LeBron gives us the best sports narrative since Muhammad Ali rumbled in the jungle and chooses to return to Cleveland after a fourth straight trip to the Finals.

I love the NBA season no matter what. I loved it when Playoff time meant Dale Davis and Rik Smits sweating against Charles Oakley and Patrick Ewing in a 79-75 Playoff game that somehow passed for entertainment. But I want Derrick Rose at 100 percent so the season is not merely another slick Hollywood epic starring the Miami Heat, with the suspense lying not in the result but the execution. I want the rise of DRose so the Bulls can face off (we can hope) against the Warriors and Steph Curry in the NBA Finals. Count me among those who were relieved that DRose didn’t come back early and resisted the pressure to rush back. But now that his body is right, we will see about his mind. This is uncharted territory. For the good of the game, we should all hope he finds his way.

It seems like people forget how close the Pacers were to dethroning the Heat last year. And now they added Luis Scola, get Danny Granger back, and should see Lance Stephenson and stud Paul George get even better. My only question with Indy is at point guard, where neither George Hill nor CJ Watson do much for me.

2. Heat, 56-26

I really hope this is not interpreted as a slight of LeBron. He is easily the game’s best player, and I say he’s fully on track to be in the best-ever convos. But how much does DWade have left? Will Miami’s bench do anything? We’ve seen what happens when LeBron has to do it all on his own: His team loses in the Conference Finals.

3. Bulls, 54-28

There should be zero questions about this team’s motivation (high) or coaching (the best), and by the time you read this, any D Rose doubts will probably have been assuaged. A title by the Bulls seems only slightly less likely than the preceding two teams; Indy and Miami just happen to be a smidge better.

4. Knicks, 52-30

Something tells me this might be the most-beefed-with prediction. Yes, the griminess of the Knicks’ front office may portend a return to lower-division status as soon as next season, but this season’s games will be won and lost on the court. And, frankly, I like the players the Knicks will be trotting out there. Melo is still in his prime, and players two-eight all strike me as above average. I think this team will score, be fun to watch and be a very tough out in the Playoffs.

5. Nets, 43-39

Another pick that may go against conventional wisdom. If BK gets off to a 20-6 start and smells the chance to win a title, I will sing a whole different tune. But if they take time to gel and are clearly not in the upper echelon of the League, what will KG and Paul Pierce be playing for, exactly? And who’s the leader of this team? The old Celtics? The young coach? The occasionally passive-aggressive Deron Williams? The six-time All-Star Joe Johnson? That’s a lot of questions…

6. Hawks, 42-40

Sadly for Lang Whitaker, the OG of SLAM pre-season previews, “#ATLshawty” has come to mean “boring franchise” in NBA speak. Signing Paul Millsap and re-signing Jeff Teague keep the Hawks firmly in the Playoff mix, but it’s hard to see them doing much once they get there.

7. Pistons, 42-40

Accuse me of having no respect for proper shot selection if you must, but I will be watching a LOT more of the Pistons’ 42-40 campaign than I will be of the Hawks’. Look, I like watching Brandon Jennings and Josh Smith play. And if that’s a guilty pleasure with little upside beyond entertainment value, well, the Andre Drummond-Greg Monroe duo is one that has real-life upside. I think in 12 months we’ll be projecting these guys to finish a lot higher.

8. Cavaliers, 40-42

Yes, the city seems cursed and the last couple of seasons have been dreadful, but this is a franchise back on the right track. New coach Mike Brown should straighten out some of the defensive issues while Kyrie Irving and the young talent around him will take care of the O. A Playoff berth would be a nice accomplishment for this group.

9. Bucks, 37-45

Oh, Milwaukee. The BJ Era came and went without a whole lot happening, and the Monta Era won’t even be remembered. Now OJ Mayo is in town to help deliver more mediocrity. Larry Sanders is fun to watch but this is just a team in purgatory. Meanwhile, Tobias Harris—oh, nevermind.

10. Magic, 36-46

While I hope for their sake that Bucks’ fans don’t read this entry, supporters in O-Town are only too happy to study up on Tobias. The versatile forward from Long Island teams up with another versatile forward from Long Island (technically speaking), Maurice Harkless, to give the Magic one of the more intriguing young starting lineups in the L. Our Advertising Director, Dave Schnur, doubles as the president of the Tobias Fan Club and even thinks this will be a Playoff team.

11. Wizards, 34-48

I may be John Wall’s biggest supporter in the media. I love his speed and skill set, and I think 80 games and sick across-the-board numbers are in the offing this year. So he’s not the problem. It’s the rest of the roster that does little to inspire, hence, the 34 wins. How long does Ernie Grunfeld get to turn this thing around?

12. Raptors, 33-49

I actually like Andrea Bargnani for the Knicks, but I’m sure the Raptors and their devoted fans are happy not to have the specter of “failed No. 1 pick” around any longer. A new foreign big man, Jonas Valanciunas, should ultimately be better than Bargnani was and, with promising GM Masai Ujiri on board, will get the Raps back in the Playoff picture before long.

13. Bobcats, 28-54

Defensive snobs can hate on Al Jefferson all they want. For an outside-in team like the Cats have been, getting one of the game’s best offensive low-post weapons was a no brainer. Kemba Walker, who went from most-known college player to little-known NBA player, is quietly becoming a top-shelf point guard, and MKG and Cody Zeller give Charlotte some nice young forwards. I wouldn’t be shocked if MJ cajoled 30 Ws out of this team.

14. Celtics, 27-55

No one knows if Brad Stevens will turn out to be a great NBA coach, but I absolutely loved the hire. This rebuilding team wasn’t going to the Playoffs if Red Auerbach was coaching them, so why not let the former Butler wunderkind see how his approach translates in the League? Jeff Green will provide steady numbers, Rajon will be Rajon once he’s healthy, and the rest of the squad will be on a year-long audition.

15. 76ers, 16-66

As a firm believer that Nerlens Noel should have been the first pick in the Draft, I have no choice but to give the Sixers some props for their long-term outlook. This season, however, will be for Fantasy NBA junkies only. Someone has to get stats, right? Fantasy and the Noel watch aside, the biggest thing to look for in Philly is how Michael Carter-Williams plays. If he proves to be a responsible enough ballhandler, the Sixers have a really nice weapon in their backcourt. If not, this team may be headed for less than 20 wins in 2014-15 as well.

SLAM has had fun with little-know guys like Rafer Alston on our cover when no one knew who they were, or been ahead of the curve on future standouts like LeBron James, Anthony Davis and Andrew Wiggins. We’ve also done breakout NBA players, groups of rookies, etc. Because of all this, a player with the NBA lineage, near-legendary college career and Lottery-pick status that Stephen Curry boasts has usually been on a SLAM cover well before they start their fifth season.

But for one reason or another, whether it was ill-timed injuries, struggling Warriors teams, a fear on our business end that Stephen wouldn’t move copies for us or low shoe company support, young Mr. Curry has never had that moment. Until now.

The barriers to this moment fell, one-by-one, ’til his march towards superstardom and big press exposure seemed inevitable. The right-ankle issues that cost Curry 40 games in the lockout-shortened ’11-12 campaign dissipated to the point that he missed only four games last season. *knocks on wood*

Underrated GM Bob Myers made some shrewd moves, surrounding Curry with the best talent in his career and teaming him with gifted players’ coach Mark Jackson to give the Warriors an exciting, up-and-coming roster that harnessed its enthusiasm and became a legit Playoff team last year. And now they’ve added former All-Star and Olympian Andre Iguodala. This is no news flash, but the Dubs are a team on the rise.

Meanwhile, aided by insane, social-media friendly scoring outbursts like he had at MSG against the Knicks or in the Playoffs against the Nuggets, Steph’s popularity skyrocketed. Our small staff isn’t tracking this stuff in an official way, but our everyday exposure to Trash Talk letters and emails as well as all the @ messages we get on Instagram and Twitter told us something very clear: The people wanted a Stephen Curry cover!

All of the above was more than enough for me to start the ball rolling on this as far back as July, reaching out to Stephen’s people and discussing what a SLAM cover shoot involves. Stephen was as interested in being on our cover as we were in having him on it, so it quickly became clear we’d get it done no matter what sneaker company he signed with when his Nike contract expired. The fact that the brand turned out to be Under Armour was just a last little bonus to the whole thing. Not that we like Curry more or less as a player now, but UA was so excited that a shoot was in the works that they teamed our idea up with one of their shoots, and gave us some special access to an entire day with Stephen. This is how we created the dope video that leads off this post.

As for the photos and words we generated on that very special day, not to mention a print version of our #SLAMTop50, revealing feature stories on Kawhi Leonard and Dirk Nowitzki and my first-ever stab at a full-blown NBA Preview (written in about 32 minutes to try and prove a point, but still), well, I hope you’ll pick up the print edition asap to enjoy it all.

We’ll have plenty more on this when it hits newsstands next week, but this much we can tell you: Stephen Curry is (obviously) on the cover of SLAM 173, decked out in his Golden State Warriors uni and some fresh Under Armour kicks.